


Too Marvelous For Words

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-16
Updated: 2001-02-16
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of theWest Wing Fanfiction Central, a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in theannouncement post.





	1. Too Marvelous For Words

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

"Too Marvelous For Words"

Rating: PG, maybe PG-13

Spoilers: don't think any

Disclaimers: Of course, I am a humble college student, and besides, you can see from my writing that these wonderful characters are not mine. They are, alas, property of Aaron Sorkin, John Wells et al. (NBC) I'm just borrowing them.

Author's Note: As I was writing this, I needed a way to open the story. But I happened to see Lida Rose's story "Snapping at Snowballs" on the archive after I finished. I want to say, I am *really* sorry, I never meant to steal your plot!! =) I just thought it was a good way to open the story. But, all the same, credit for unknown and unconscious inspiration. *g*

Also thanks to Stefanie again for dialogue inspiration - you're the best! To all that don't like the plot, it's mine, not yours. =) Enjoy!!   
\--------

"Sam, are you nuts?" C.J. Cregg asked her boyfriend. "It's December. Why do you want to have lunch outside?"

Sam Seaborn shrugged. "I don't know. It'd be a nice change from being cooped up in my office all day."

"Don't you think the press will follow us?"

Sam shrugged. "Let them. They've known about this since March."

"You are such a dork." C.J. smiled fondly at the man she'd been dating for nearly a year.

"I know. That's why you love me." Sam returned the smile.

"Oh, please!" Josh Lyman said, walking into the hallway. "Give me a break already!"

"Oh, go to hell," C.J. said evilly. "You and Donna have sickened me numerous times."

Josh looked hurt. "Hey, I resent that!"

C.J. had to laugh. "Well, it's true."

"So?"

"So, you still sicken us," Sam joked. He turned to C.J. "Are we going outside or not?"

She debated for a moment before capitulating. "Oh, what the hell. Fine." C.J. walked outside, and was struck by how nice it actually was when the wind wasn't blowing. Sam, however, hung back, causing C.J. to stamp her foot in annoyance. "What's wrong, Sam?"

"It's cold. Just a minute." He turned away to grab his suit coat.

Something in C.J. made her taunt him as Josh looked on, laughing. "Sam, don't be a wimp."

"All right already." Sam, fastening his suitcoat meticulously, followed her outside. He stayed on the path, but otherwise looked perfectly content to be there. He watched C.J. accustom herself to the climate, thinking of the past months. This year had been the most wonderful that he could remember. C.J. really was his perfect match, and he was becoming more and more accustomed to that idea. They were so psychologically in tune it was scary. Not only did they work together even better, but the outside perks of just C.J. herself, mind and body, were, in a word, incredible.

Josh, meanwhile, watched his friends from outside, an evil idea forming in his mind. They were weird... but it looked like fun. Knowing she would be in, he stuck his head into the hall and yelled, "Donna!!"

She appeared momentarily, still in her coat. "What, Josh?"

"Get my coat, please."

"Sure." She disappeared and was back in a minute with Josh's jacket.

He threw it on, grabbing her arm. "We're going outside."

"Josh, are you nuts!?" Donna yelled.

Just then, however, some evil spirit inside of C.J. made her do something she'd later regret. But what the hell, she had a change of clothes in her office. "Hey, Sam!"

"What?" He looked up just in time to get a well-aimed snowball in the face. "C.J.!!" Sam shouted good-humoredly, rubbing the stinging flurry out of his eyes.

"Don't whine, Sammy!" C.J. called back, laughing to herself.

Josh couldn't confine his chuckles. "Hee hee. She called you *Sammy.*"

"Only C.J.'s allowed to call me that... Joshie!!"

"Oh, this means *war*!!" Josh, taking careful aim, threw a rocket that missed Sam and hit Donna square in the back.

She yelped and turned around. "Josh!! What was that for!?"

"It wasn't aimed at you!"

"Well, it hit me!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Donnatella!" While talking, Josh hurled one at C.J. that connected. Pretty soon they stood in the middle of an all-out snowball war. White projectiles were everywhere. Donna nailed Sam in the leg. C.J. thumped Donna with one in the back of the head. Sam had Donna distract Josh, then dumped a handful of snow down his back. It was getting ugly.

Eventually, though, Sam removed himself from the line of fire. "C.J., I have to go in and change!" he called. "I have the FBI procedure change meeting in less than an hour!"

C.J. sulked a bit, looking for all the world like a ten-year old. "Sam!"

"I have to!"

All of a sudden, she found a better revenge. Throwing one last well-aimed snowball that hit Sam in the chest, C.J. hollered lightheartedly, "Baby!!"

Josh could see the scales balancing in his friend's head, weighing the options. Finally, one won out. "Ooooh, that's it," Sam said to himself, sprinting across the path and bringing C.J. down with a flying tackle.

Once down he playfully attempted to facewash her, while C.J. struggled for the upper hand to do the same, accompanied by shrieks of, "Sam!"

Josh stared at Sam and C.J., each trying to rub more snow in the other's face. It occurred to him that they were unbelievably happy together. He hadn't seen C.J. smile so much since she discovered the Jackal. And Sam... well, he was even *more* annoyingly cheerful now that he had C.J.

Sam abruptly halted the grudge match. "C.J., I really have to go in and change now. Toby will chew my head off if I'm late." With difficulty he disentangled himself from his girlfriend, and headed inside.

"I have to go too," Josh added. He felt like a kid telling his parents he was coming in. He'd wanted to stay, but he, alas, had to prepare for the same meeting.

C.J. shrugged. "Hey, Donna, feel like getting more snow in the face? I don't have anything for two hours!"

"Sure, C.J.!" Donna answered, grin on her face. "I promise to miss sometimes." And with that the women resumed the snowball fight in all its fury.

The men stood at the door, drying off. "Damn," Josh said, "C.J. has one hell of an arm, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she does," Sam said absentmindedly. "How should I ask her to marry me?"

Josh, for a moment, continued as though he hadn't heard Sam. Then it sunk in. "I wonder if... *what??*"

Sam let just a hint of a smile escape. "How should I ask C.J. to marry me?"

Josh was still a bit flustered at the idea. "Well, how the hell should I know?! It's not like I've ever asked anyone to marry me before!"

Sam looked crestfallen. He honestly hadn't thought of that. "Well... you're my best friend. I wanted to come to you about this."

Josh shook his head. "Well, I'm flattered, but I have no idea."

"Damn," Sam muttered. "Then who should I ask?"

"Well, you should probably ask a woman what another woman would want."

"Yeah, why didn't I think of that?" Sam asked rhetorically. "But which woman?" He ran through the possible candidates in his mind. "Ainsley? ... Good God, no. Cathy? She'd tell everyone. Ginger?... Ditto. Um ..."

Josh sighed. "Why don't you just ask Donna?"

Sam grinned mischievously. "Sure I'm not giving her ideas?"

Josh was about to reply when the women came in. C.J. was laughing gently at Donna. "Maybe we should get you to work on your aim," she teased as they came through the door.

Donna was muttering general vows of revenge when Sam stopped her. "Donna, can I talk to you for a minute?"

C.J. was troubled by his serious tone. "Sammy, everything all right?" she asked.

"Uh... yeah, C.J., everything's fine. You can go now, I'll see you later." Sam spoke perhaps a bit too hurriedly. She looked at him strangely, but complied.

Josh left as well. "Donna, I want the defence council files when you're done here."

"Sure." Once he had left, Donna turned to face Sam. "So, what can I help you with?"

"Um... well, Donna, I, uh..." Finally Sam decided the best thing to do was to just say it. It still seemed a foreign proposition for him; something so wonderful that words really wouldn't do it justice. If she said yes, of course. "I need some help. I need you to tell me how I should propose to C.J."

Donna's face lit up. "Oh, wow, Sam, that's so wonderful! I think you �"

Sam interrupted. If he didn't she could go for weeks. "Donna! Just... how do I do it?"

Donna, misunderstanding, looked at him witheringly. "Well... you sorta give her a ring and say 'C.J., will you marry me?' It's not that difficult."

Sam shook his head in annoyance. "No, Donna. *How* do I do it? How can I make it really romantic? You know, sort of sweep her off her feet and stuff."

"Oh!" Now that Donna knew exactly what he wanted, she spoke fast. "Well, make reservations at her favourite restaurant. She likes Chinese, right?" Sam nodded. "Well, do that, and then arrange everything beforehand. You know. Champagne, flowers, a table for two, the whole deal."

Sam felt his confidence increase. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

"And then..." Donna waved a hand. "Just go down on one knee and say it." She sighed. "God, I love weddings."

"Thanks, Donna." Sam kissed her on the cheek. "You've helped a lot."

"Good luck." She turned in one direction and Sam went the other way, on to the meeting, but afterwards, a lot more than that.

 


	2. Too Marvelous For Words 2

 

Warnings/Spoilers/etc: See pt 1

Feedback: Most assuredly!

C.J. sat at her desk, trying to stifle a chill. Maybe the snowball fight hadn't been such a good idea after all. Not if it meant she'd get sick. Still, she smiled to herself, she *had* kicked Donna's ass. And she would have kicked Sam's had he stayed out there longer.

Life was good. She'd enjoyed a snowball fight outside like a grade school child. She'd just seen Danny Concannon and he'd been relatively friendly � not standoffish like before. Carol said that Sam or no Sam, he was still carrying the torch for her. C.J. hoped he was getting past that. It wasn't good for her ego to think she'd had that sort of effect on Danny. And on top of everything else, someone had surprised her with a tin of coffee � her favourite blend � and the only work she had involved Sam.

Whistling softly, C.J. grabbed the file and left her office. She skipped down the hall, nodding a hello to Carol. The halls were very full. People were running everywhere. C.J. couldn't have been happier. Rush hour in the West Wing was a time she reveled in.

"Hi, C.J.!" Cathy, Sam's assistant, always had a kind word for her. Perhaps it was because in the time he'd been dating C.J., Sam had been considerably less inclined to overwork himself, and thus less inclined to snap at her.

"Hey, Cathy. Your boss in?" C.J. couldn't keep the smile off her face. The day was too damn good.

Cathy checked the calendar sitting on her desk. "Yeah, the meeting should have been over ten minutes ago. He should be back in a sec, if you'd care to wait."

"Sure." C.J. walked into Sam's office and sat down.

It wasn't long before she heard his voice. "Man, she is going to be *so* surprised!"

"Yeah," a female voice, probably Donna, responded. "I honestly don't know how C.J. will take it."

"I think she'll be all right." She heard Sam stop at the doorway to his office and turn the key. "But come in for a minute, and we can work out the details."

To say C.J. was curious would have put it mildly. But she couldn't exactly get out of the office. So she did the next best thing and sat on Sam's couch nonchalantly. She would make her excuses and then wait until he finished whatever he had to do.

Sam jumped a mile and a half! "C.J.!"

She was on her feet in an instant. "Are you okay, Sam?" This didn't look like an ordinary fright. Sam wasn't usually excitable. What had she done?

Sam caught his breath and stilled his pulse beat, at the same time mentally kicking himself. Why the hell had he reacted like that? She hadn't scared him *that* much. Now she knew something was going on.

He had to try to save it. "I'm fine, C.J. You just scared me; I didn't expect anyone to be here."

She didn't buy it; he knew that look. Still, Sam knew that she wouldn't talk about it in front of Donna, who had walked into the office behind Sam. "Fine," C.J. said slowly. Still, she wouldn't let it go completely. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes. Fine. You can go now, C.J." Sam spoke far too quickly and betrayed far too much nervousness.

It showed. "I'll wait outside." C.J. walked through the door, radiating anxiety as much as Sam.

He closed the door behind her and swore. "I handled that completely wrong, didn't I?"

"Completely," Donna agreed. "Now she knows there's something going on."

"Shit." Sam dropped into his chair. He hadn't made the decision too long ago and already he was experiencing this degree of fear. Maybe this wasn't the right way to go. Maybe he wasn't ready.

"You're ready, Sam; don't doubt yourself." Donna sat down in the chair opposite him. "It's natural to be scared. I would be if I were you."

"Was I talking out loud?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah, you were." Donna flipped open a file. "Now, come on, Sam. We have to finish this. Let's get the gun package stats for Josh so we can both go home before the ice storm hits."

Sam blinked. "What ice storm?"

Donna gave him one of her where-have-you-been looks. "There's supposed to be a gigantic ice storm tonight. One of the worst on record."

"Fabulous," Sam muttered under his breath. To Donna he said, "All right, let me call Joey and get the stats."

As Sam made the call, Donna sat and reflected on her own relationship. Why couldn't *her* boyfriend be more like Sam? Well, not in clumsiness or naivete. She'd had enough of that. But why couldn't Josh know instinctively what she wanted? Sam looked positively adorable, trying to forget his plan to woo C.J. as he struggled to focus on work. She still found it amusing that C.J. had thought *she* had loved Sam, while C.J. had been struggling with her own crush.

She came back to the present as Sam turned on the television. "Let's see what CNN has to say on this."

The two of them stared at the television as the newscast came back from commercial. "Today the White House begins hearings on a proposed gun package. This bill would propose five-day waiting periods and background checks on gun users." Sam nodded. So far, so good.

But then the announcer dropped his bomb. "However, some Washington insiders are saying that this bill may quickly get rougher." The network jumped to a shot of Josh, while the voice-over continued. "A source inside the White House has told this network that the president's senior staff have vowed to press for very strict gun control, especially in the wake of the attempted assassination of President Bartlet and Joshua Lyman, the White House Deputy Chief of Staff."

Sam stared at the TV, while Donna spoke, horror-stricken. "This can't be happening."

Still it went on. "Our same source inside the White House quotes a senior official as saying, 'We won't rest until there's some stricter gun control laws in place. This kind of thing can't happen again. Free expression be damned.'" The announcer continued with what Sam saw as grim triumph. "Needless to say," he persisted, "the Republicans in Congress are crying foul already. In other news ..."

"Shit!" Sam couldn't stop it. Numbly he said, "Who the hell was their source!"

Donna, ever the tranquil one, addressed the situation logically. "Well, who said that, first and foremost?"

"Me." Sam's voice was almost non-existent, even though he elaborated. "It wasn't to a reporter or anything!" He gestured helplessly. "I remember saying it. It was in the hall. I was talking to Josh."

"Fine." Donna mentally eliminated Josh as the leak. He'd worked too hard on this. "Well, who was there when you said it?"

Sam tried to remember. "Um... Well, Josh obviously. Cathy. Carol, she was getting my notes on the Hawkinson memo. Congresswoman Jarrard's aide. Danny Concannon. And Amanda York, the new reporter from the Guardian."

Their eyes lit up at the same moment. "York!" Donna said, with savage triumph.

Sam still entertained doubts. "I don't know, Donna. Danny looks like a pretty good bet right now."

"Sam!" Evidently Donna disagreed. "Danny would never leak about this. He was *there,* for God's sake. York doesn't owe us anything. Danny owes C.J. everything, really."

"True," Sam mused. Truth be told he didn't want to tell Donna about the personal motives clogging his head. Would Danny go so far as to leak something to ruin Sam? According to Carol, Sam was the A-number one on Danny's shit list. And, Sam admitted, for a good reason. But it wasn't his fault, really. C.J. had done the dumping.

Trying to forget those thoughts, Sam progressed to far worse ones. "Um, Donna, let's forget about collating right now, huh? I need you to go tell Josh what's going on." He paled, thinking of his own fate. "I'll go tell Leo."

"All right." Donna turned to go, then faced him again, thinking of something. "Sam, I know this isn't the time, but I have to ask: did you make reservations tonight with C.J.?"

Sam made a gesture of annoyance. "I will as soon as I finish this off." For a moment the old boyish smile was back. "I could never concentrate on that right now."

"I guess not." The two went off to their respective duties.

 


	3. Too Marvelous For Words 3

 

Warnings/Spoilers/etc: See pt 1

\-----   
Later that morning, Danny Concannon knocked lightly on the door of Josh Lyman's office. It wouldn't have been politic for him to talk to C.J. right now, unless absolutely necessary. For his polite knock, however, he received a harried, "What!"

Danny opened the door. "Josh?"

"Danny!" In a flash Josh was up from his desk and in the reporter's face. "What in hell do you know about the gun package?"

"What do you mean?"

Josh filled him in on what had happened, yet the suspicious air about him saddened Danny. Did he really think the senior White House correspondent capable of something so low? Leaks, yeah. But on such an important package? Never.

He said as much. "Josh, I have a pretty good idea what you're not saying." Danny stared Josh straight in the eye. "But I would never try to injure this administration like that."

To Josh, however, Danny's circumspect wording only confirmed his worst qualms. "Maybe you wouldn't hurt this administration," Josh began. He had been going to sugarcoat his last point, but he decided against it. If his suspicions were true, he didn't deserve it. "Danny, would you do it to hurt Sam?"

"What?" Danny's voice was quiet and calm, and for all the world he sounded to Josh like his friend Sam, trying not to unleash one of his rare explosions.

Josh spoke fast. "Danny," he said, sighing, "Sam told me that when he said the *exact words* that CNN reported, you were one of the people in the room."

"So."

"So, Sam said that even if you wouldn't hurt the administration, you might hurt him because it was personal." Josh spoke fast and for once, couldn't meet his opponent's eyes.

Danny felt his anger boiling. This wasn't like Josh, and it was beneath Josh. He'd bet his press card that C.J.'d had nothing to do with it. She, no matter how she felt about him personally, would never have accused him of this. And it wasn't Leo McGarry, who respected him. So it was Seaborn, and so why not tell Josh the truth? "Josh, I didn't leak it. However much I would love to see Sam away from C.J., this wouldn't have done it. So why would I bother?"

Josh opened his mouth to argue, and then stopped. Danny was right. In every particular, Danny's logic made sense. So he simply said, "I had to ask."

"I know you did."

"I'll bet it was York, that new girl from the Guardian." Danny felt bad snitching on another press member, but it was her or him.

"Yeah." Josh smiled slightly. "Actually, that's what Donna thought. She was with Sam when they heard about the quote."

"Donna's smart." Though Danny meant it as a compliment, he didn't smile to back it up.

Josh's next words were designed to change the subject back to where it should have been. "So, Danny, what can I help you with? Going fishing for stories?"

"Uh, yeah, actually." Danny collected himself long enough to flip through his notebook. "We're doing a feature on the new welfare reform bill."

"Um..." Josh consulted his notes. "You'd want to talk to Toby."

"Okay." Danny moved to leave.

Still, Josh's words were sent from above to injure him; Danny was sure. "But he's not here right now; he's out of town. You'd have to talk to Sam." 

Danny marshaled his anger; it would do no good to snap at the White House Deputy Chief of Staff. He'd save that for the Deputy Communications Director. "Fine. Seaborn in?"

"He should be." Josh's face was apologetic. "Danny, I'm sorry." He faltered a bit, grasping for words. Finally he spoke very delicately. "I know what Sam does to you, and quite frankly I'd be pissed off too if I were you. But you can't let it get in the way, right?"

Danny shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." But inside he didn't agree at all. Still, with the air of a condemned man, he set off down the hall to find Sam Seaborn.

Speaking of condemned men, Sam's office was even more frenzied than Josh's had been. Assistants coursed in and out of the office, each bearing more files than the last. Danny chuckled. Here was the perfect time, even if it theoretically wasn't, to interrupt Sam further.

His hatred for Seaborn somehow went beyond simple dislike. The man had taken his woman, the only decent woman he'd met in politics yet. Danny would eventually forgive that. He knew he'd heal and move on. But not now.

Thus he knocked on the door. "Seaborn?"

Sam looked up from his work. "Oh, Danny. Come in." Inside, however, he was swearing and throwing things. This was exactly what he did not need. Even if Sam hadn't suspected him of the leak, Danny would have been another thorn in the deputy's side. But still, he had to be civil. "Something I can do for you?" 

After knowing Danny for so long, Sam didn't know why he was so surprised when Danny got right to the point. "Yes. I need a quote on the welfare reform bill. And I need you to stop accusing me of leaks. Got it?"

Sam blinked. How had he guessed? "Well, Danny, being honest with you," he said calmly, "I thought you had a good opportunity."

Danny's eyes narrowed. He was not doing a good job of controlling his temper. "Me and five other people, Seaborn. Now please don't accuse me of anything you can't back up." Taking a breath, he tried to be businesslike. "Now, about the welfare bill."

"Sure." Sam fumbled through his papers. Finally holding the right document, he began to speak as Danny turned on his tape recorder. "Well, the President hopes to accomplish great things with this bill. We can theoretically cut the amount of welfare spending and yet at the same time redistribute that spending to other areas."

"Such as?"

"Community centers, shelters, things like that. It's still in the poverty sector."

"All right." Danny stood. "That's all I needed."

"Well... actually," Sam said, "there's one more thing."

"Yeah?"

Sam avoided the reporter's eyes as he spoke. "C.J. told me she had to cancel your lunch date. She got roped into helping out with the tobacco hearings."

"That's your baby, isn't it, Seaborn?" Danny couldn't keep a tiny bit of bitterness out of his voice. "Why would she get roped into it?"

"Leo asked her."

Danny said nothing, lest he accuse a member of Bartlet's Senior Staff of lying to him. Finally he just said, "Tell her I'll call her to reschedule."

"Fine." Sam still looked away. Yet he had to try. "She really was sorry, you know."

"I'll bet she was." Danny couldn't resist. After all, this man had just accused him of leaking. He was entitled to a little mockery. "Sure Leo didn't have a little help in roping her in?"

Sam said nothing, just turned back to his paperwork.

 


	4. Too Marvelous For Words 4

 

Warnings/Spoilers/etc: See pt 1

\-----   
Josh stared out the window idly and watched the snow pile up. It was really coming down out there. He'd better start to pack up. The weather forecast said the city would be deluged come morning. It wouldn't do to be stuck at the White House. And Toby's Nintendo 64 wasn't working.

"Donna!" he called. "Can we try to finish up quickly? I don't want to be stuck here tonight."

"I was thinking the same thing, Josh." Donna walked over and stood in his doorway. "But we do have a lot to do. So what do you want first?"

Josh waved a hand idly. "I don't know. How about the Marks memo?"

"Okay." She left to get the files and for the umpteenth time Josh reflected on his good fortune. Donna really was a gift. She anticipated everything he wanted � well, almost everything, there was that set of golf clubs � and she dealt with the insane work schedule as well as if not better than him. That was why Sam was giving him definite ideas.

Donna came back just as a howling wind assaulted the windows. "It's starting," she commented, though not idly as her words would have felt.

"Let's get cracking," Josh answered, picking up the top file in his box. "I don't want to be stuck here all night."

"You've got that right." Donna sat down. "I really hope Sam and C.J. make it out of here."

Much as Josh knew he had to work, he wanted to talk about this with one of the few people that would truly understand. "What did you tell him to do?" Besides, he thought, maybe he'd pick up a few hints of his own.

Donna shrugged. "Common sense, really. Her favourite restaurant, candles, flowers, champagne, the whole works."

"Yeah." Josh entertained the amusing thought. Still, he had his doubts. "The thing is, Donnatella," he said, slipping into what the assistants called his lecture mode, "you reckon without Sam's natural modesty."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"It has everything to do with anything." Josh frowned; that hadn't come out right. Whatever. "Think about it, Donna. Sam is extremely nervous around women. Even C.J., long as they've been dating. If he gets to the point where he's going to ask her to marry him," Josh pointed out, spreading his arms in a grand, dramatic gesture, pretending to be his friend, "he'll clam up simply because of the magnitude of the thing." To illustrate his point he stopped dead in his soaring tracks and put a look on his face that mirrored the utmost exquisite fear.

Donna, however, was unconvinced. "I don't agree, Josh." She set up her dictation equipment as she spoke. "Sam loves her. Somehow he'll get through being scared and find a way to do it." The two busied themselves in work, losing all sense of time.

Meanwhile, a few offices down the hall, C.J. did the same. However, no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, it wasn't working. Her thoughts kept drifting back to her boyfriend.

What was *with* him!? He'd been as nervous as a treed cat all day today. And it wasn't just the quote, though Leo'd called him onto the carpet for that. She had been waiting in his office for him again and while waiting she'd opened his desk drawer, looking for the snacks he usually kept stowed in there. Sam was usually okay with her eating his food. But today he'd rushed in and closed the drawer so fast she'd almost lost a finger.

No, it wasn't the quote. There was something else. It beggared description, at least for the moment. Still, she'd be damned if he'd keep secrets from her.

But what could it be? If it were something serious, he'd tell her. At least she thought he would. But maybe it was going to be a surprise, though he knew she hated surprises. Or maybe it was something that was so terrible and so awful that he dreaded telling her because he didn't want to hurt her. But he knew -

C.J. stopped herself with a cynical smile. God. Now she was even starting to ramble like Sam, in addition to thinking like him. But was that such a bad thing? She had just grown so used to Sam being there for her. She didn't like to think what would happen if he wasn't there.

She had to find out what was going on. But could she do so without betraying his trust? Because she trusted him, C.J. told herself. But if something was going to threaten her relationship she had to know.

It was settled, then. With a renewed vigor she threw herself into her work.

Sam, however, wasn't nearly so easy in his mind. The quote appeared to be under control. They'd hastily concocted three briefings that to his mind, ended the questions. It had been written off, but he knew that once Toby got back in town, heads would roll. Sam gloomily reflected that between scaring C.J. and that damned quote this day wasn't looking good.

It was the former that was making him nervous. He took the ring out of his top desk drawer idly, turning it over and over in his hands as he thought. She'd had a strange look in her eyes that day. Ever since the scene in his office with Donna. And when he'd come back from the gun package meeting � ! She'd been hunting in his drawer for the leftover cookies, with every moment drawing closer to the diamond he now dangled off his thumb and forefinger. It still made him shudder to think how near she'd been.

Still, that couldn't have been the whole reason. Could she think something was going on? No, surely they'd cured C.J. of that thought. There was nothing between him and Donna; nor had there ever been. But nonetheless, C.J. had looked strange. He'd never forgive himself if he scared her off.

Three of those four people, ignorant of the gusting wind and the small pings of hail on glass, buried themselves further and further in mountains of paper. From the other office, however, the only sound was restless pacing, up and down, down and up, as the night stretched on.

 


	5. Too Marvelous For Words 5

 

Sam jerked himself awake. He absently rubbed his aching neck as he wondered what time it was. The Wing was abnormally quiet. Could he have fallen asleep for so long?

Trying to remember what he'd been doing before his void, he came up with the answer quickly: he'd been trying to finish the work he had so he could have an evening with C.J. guilt free. And ask her a rather important question. Checking his watch, he recoiled in horror. His reservation was at eight p.m. It was now 7:25.

Sam swore and jumped to his feet. Did he have anything else to finish? Rifling through his files, he was gratified to see he'd finished nearly everything, and what he hadn't would wait.

But why was it so dark? It usually wasn't so dark at 7pm. Oh, well. No matter. He shrugged into his suitcoat, gently hitting his blinds as he did so. Diving into the desk, he grabbed the ring box, making sure that the ring was inside. He smiled to himself nervously. This had to go well. If not... well, he wouldn't think about that.

Turning to leave the office, he had a thought and shifted the blinds to see what sort of night awaited him. Then Sam was struck with a terrible realization as he beheld the weather.

Rivulets of hail stuck on his window. Though the lights in the office were off, Sam still couldn't make out the tree outside his office window. He heard the howl of the wind and as he brought a hand to the window he could feel the frost.

"Shit." Sam went to lift the phone and was appalled to find the line silent. Madly he tore out of the office and down the hall. The Wing was positively ghostly without the normal hustle and bustle, and this only added to Sam's anxiety.

Hearing noise, he followed the sound until he stood outside C.J.'s door. "C.J.!" he called.

C.J. opened the door. "Hey, Sam."

"Have you looked outside?" Sam's voice was hard, fraught with alarm.

"No, why?"

"Look."

C.J. turned back into her office and opened her blinds. The same frigid picture assaulted her eyes. "Oh, damn," she said, eyes full of concern. "It looks terrible out there."

"Yeah." Sam hung his head. "It's supposed to be one of the worst on record."

C.J., as was her strong suit, reacted quickly. "Then come on, Sam, let's get out of here before it gets any worse!" She grabbed her coat, directing Sam, "Go back and get your stuff too." Sam made the mad dash back to his office, tossing the files into his briefcase. He arrived back into the hallway just as C.J. was locking her office. "Come on. Down to the door."

"We'll take my car," Sam added. "It'll be safer." Sam drove a four-wheel drive Expedition, which C.J. jokingly referred to as the 'suburban assault vehicle.'

It was the measure of her state of mind that she didn't argue. "That's all right," C.J. called over her shoulder as she strode rapidly down to the door and the Secret Service checkpoint.

At the exit doors, however, she was stopped. "Sorry, Ms. Cregg, Mr. Seaborn," one of the agents said. "President's orders. No one leaves. It's too damned dangerous."

While C.J. began to argue, Sam felt himself slipping closer and closer to despair. If they couldn't leave the White House, then they couldn't have dinner, and Sam couldn't, at least tonight, ask C.J. to be his wife. And besides that, the prospect of sleeping on his couch didn't appeal to him in the slightest.

He tuned back in just as C.J. admitted grudging defeat. "Fine," she said, in a huff. "I'll be in my office, trying to get comfortable." She turned and stalked back in the direction they had come. Sam hustled to catch up with her.

Once he had done so, his natural peacemaking side came through. "There could be worse things, C.J.," he said, though he could feel his own hopelessness flowing through his veins.

C.J. muttered something, then paused as a brainwave struck her. "I wonder if anyone else is still here."

"Maybe, why?"

C.J.'s smile was devilish. "Well, at least if we have the wing to ourselves ..."

She let the sentence dangle, and Sam felt himself blush. Still, he had to beg off, much as he didn't want to. His concentration wouldn't be on her, and that would cause comment. "C.J., I really shouldn't. I, uh... have work to do."

Her face fell. "You have *got* to be kidding."

"Sorry. I have to..." Sam racked his brain. "I have to finish the specs for the welfare speech next week. Leo wanted it by tomorrow morning."

"And you have to work on that *now?*" Sam could feel his resolve weakening, but he knew it was the best decision. Still, C.J. was especially attractive when moping.

Finally he just did what he knew was best. "I'm going to see if anyone else is here." Quickly he walked away, not daring to watch the look on her face. If she was still there, he needed a moment with Donna. She would know what to do.

Sam was on pins and needles by the time he got to Josh's office. He heard sounds from within and barged in.

His friend was indeed there, and in a foul mood. "Dammit!" Josh yelled to no one in particular. "I said I had to get out of here, and did I do it? No!" Upon seeing Sam, however, Josh calmed slightly. "Oh, hey, you're still here?"

"Yeah, did you hear the news?" Sam said, slightly rushed. Al l the fear and adrenaline was slowly coming to a head. "We can't leave, the President said it's too dangerous because there's hail and ice, and now I can't keep my reservation with C.J. and I can't ask her to marry me, which -"

"Sam!" Josh had to cut off the ramble. "Yes, unfortunately, I knew that. Donna's off somewhere. Is C.J. here too?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the big deal? It's not like you're going to keep her waiting at the restaurant," Josh answered.

"Yeah," Sam said slowly. He sighed. It had sounded right in his head, but now it just sounded stupid. Still he said, "I was just really prepared, finally. I was ready to ask her, and now I'm questioning myself again."

Josh sighed. "Dammit, Sam, you know I'm no good at this stuff." Sam nodded. "Still, I mean, what can you do? Just -" He cut himself off. "Just wait. There's nothing else you can do, so why not work on something to take your mind off it."

"I guess you're right." Sam sighed. Unfortunately, Josh was right. If the President wanted them to stay, there wasn't much he could do. He'd just try to avoid C.J. until he had a better grip on his emotions. "Is there anything you need my help on?"

"Yeah, actually." Josh fished in a drawer and came up with a large stack of magazines. "Take these, and search them." They were all copies of The Advocate, a magazine for the gay and lesbian community. "I'm working on an addendum to the newest gay rights bill and I was told about one of their columnists who's now in Washington as a consultant, and I think she might help me. I need you to search these and clip her columns."

"I can do that, sure." Sam took the stack and reflected that it would keep him for some time. "Thanks, Josh."

"Not a problem, believe me." Josh cracked a smile, sensing his friend needed a joke. "Hey, I never thought I'd see the day you thanked me for giving you work."

"Trust me, I could use it." Sam found himself telling Josh all his reasons for avoiding his girlfriend. "Do you know what she was saying when she found out we were stuck here?"

"I can guess." Josh smirked, recalling a particularly juicy story about honey and whipped cream.

Sam flushed. "Well, not like I'd mind. But..." He sighed. "My concentration would have been elsewhere."

"I get you."

"Right." Sam turned to leave, then thought better of it. "Can you have Donna come by my office later?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." Sam made his way down to his own office, unlocking it and making his way inside. He was soon lost in work, yet his problem was never far from his mind.

 


	6. Too Marvelous For Words 6

 

C.J., meanwhile, paced recklessly back and forth. What the hell was with Sam? Now she was certain. Something was wrong. When he turned down sex, she knew something was wrong. Or at the very least she knew he was greatly occupied. And the welfare speech would *not* occupy him to that extent.

She decided that spending the night in her office had to have some perks, dammit. And if Sam wasn't going to give her any, she would go down to his office and manufacture some of her own.

Closing her door, she paused momentarily to listen to the howling wind. It really was awful outside. But that only reinforced her determination to have a little fun cooped up inside.

Her mind drifted back to that morning. The snowball fight seemed a world away from this wintry nightmare. And Sam had seemed so happy. It was only after the meeting that morning that Sam had gotten nervous; he had seemed to jump at the slightest thing. Could something have gone wrong at that meeting?

No, that couldn't have been it. Then he'd have been nervous around everyone, not just her. She kept coming back to a relationship problem. Damn. She'd just have to go hash things out with her boyfriend.

C.J. walked down to Sam's office, and tapped gently on the door. "Sam?" she called. "It's me, C.J." Though the light was on, there was no answer. She tried again. "Sam?" Nothing.

Debating for a moment, C.J. decided to open the door. She'd surprise him, and make sure he couldn't squirm away from her. They needed to talk. She walked in and sat on the edge of his desk, idly drumming her fingers on the desk.

She was mildly surprised when her fingers didn't connect with wood. Instead they were on a magazine, making a soft thump instead of the accustomed hollow sound. Nonchalantly she looked down at her fingers and saw the title: The Advocate. On top of another copy of The Advocate. On top of another copy. A hasty appraisal of Sam's desk, in fact, revealed the entire top strewn with copies of the magazine. The top drawer of the desk was pushed in but not completely. C.J. moved the drawer open further, only to reveal yet more copies of the magazine, as well as several hand-written notes addressed to his mother. They were all half-finished; evidently Sam had been displeased with his handiwork.

C.J. couldn't breathe. So this was the secret! This was why he was only nervous around her. This was why he was especially at ease in Josh's company, and that of Donna, his best female friend. This was why he didn't want to... *do* anything before.

She sat down numbly. Her boyfriend didn't feel he could be honest with her about this. *Think, Claudia Jean,* C.J. exhorted herself through her anger. Had Sam shown any signs that she should have caught? Anything that she should have seen that would have maybe clued her in?

She felt lied to. Betrayed. Let down.

But most of all, mad as hell.

And yet, she could be wrong, a belated voice of reason tapped in. There could be another rational explanation. Still, she had to admit, this sounded horribly believable. This made a lot of sense. But another explanation was there. She couldn't jump to conclusions again. Not after last time.

She crept back to her office to pace some more. After seeing this, she couldn't face him. Not now. Not until she was ready.

Josh searched idly through the file he had, until he threw it aside. He was sick of work, and this theoretically could wait. He was more interested in the leak. Who the hell had leaked Sam's quote? He couldn't shake it from his head. The damage had been relatively contained; Leo had seen to that. Still, Josh couldn't get rid of the fact that this leak had come at a terrible time - nearing reelection. Someone had to know that a foul-up like this would lose votes.

He ran over the list of people in his head again. Himself. Sam. Carol. Danny. Congresswoman Jarrard's aide. And York, the new girl from the Guardian. OK. Who had a motive? York, he told himself, would be the most likely candidate. The Guardian was a distinctly right-wing paper, and she could have no love for the Bartlet administration if she'd agreed to work there. But nonetheless, he had no proof.

He believed Danny, though he knew Sam was still suspicious. And Danny *was* a very convincing liar. This was an ancient motive, Josh knew, and one that would stand up under scrutiny. But still, there had been something in Danny's eyes that had seemed extremely convincing.

Who else? Obviously not Sam himself. Carol, he knew, could be trusted. That left Congresswoman Jarrard's aide. She could have some tie that no one knew about. But was it worth going through all that work just to find out what this woman was about?

Well, there wasn't much else to do. Resolving to enlist Donna's help in the search for the Congresswoman's files, Josh picked up the phone to see if anyone was still in the White House Counsel's office. But as he lifted the receiver he heard a crack, and the entire room was plunged into darkness.

Sam was completely oblivious to all of this. At that moment he was engaged in an animated discussion with Donna. "How the hell can you say that I'm ready for this?" he wailed. "I'm handling this hopelessly wrong!"

"That much I can tell," Donna said with some asperity. "But you need to realize that's not the end of the world."

"Isn't it?" Sam sat down in her chair. "Donna, I just tend to question myself the whole time I think about this." He shrugged, yet the gesture was fraught more with depression than indecision. "Marriage needs to be a... long-lasting bargain, you know? Spending the rest of your life with someone is a huge, huge thing. I just don't know if I'm ready for it yet. I'm afraid."

Donna sighed. "Sam, maybe you're not ready."

The answer wasn't quite what he had expected. "What?"

Donna had hit on an idea. "Maybe you aren't ready. I mean, if you're questioning yourself already." She shrugged. "I would just wait if I were you. Give it a little time." Appearing resigned, she'd already decided, would be her best possible tactic. Sam was ready, of that she was sure. But he was scared and understandably so. If she used a little reverse psychology she would be certain to give Sam a taste of what he would be missing if he chickened out.

It worked. Sam stared at her as though she had lost her mind. " 'Give it a little time?' " He echoed. "Are you insane?"

"Am I?" Donna smiled slyly.

"How can I 'give it a little time?' " Sam asked rhetorically. "All I think about is C.J. And the fact that right now I probably have her thinking God-knows-what about everything."

Just as he spoke the power went out. "Fabulous," Sam muttered.

"Don't worry about it." Donna pulled out a large flashlight. "But as for scaring C.J., maybe that's fate's way of telling you that this would be a mistake for you."

"I don't agree." Sam had stopped pacing now. "Donna, I really want to thank you for your advice. You've been wonderful. But I think I need to do this a different way."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't need to go to the restaurant and do all that to ask C.J. to marry me," Sam said with more boldness than he really felt. "All I need is this ring," he declared, pointing to his pocket, "and the fact that I'm crazy about her."

"Awwww." Donna grinned, thinking the whole time that she'd just used the oldest trick in the book on her friend, and it had worked. Making it seem like Sam had thought up the plan himself. It was a sop to any male ego while getting the job done.

Meanwhile, Sam grinned stupidly. "I'm sick of hiding. I'm sick of lying and sneaking around. When I see her next I'm going to walk straight up to her and ask her to talk."

"Good for you, Sam." Even while cheering him on, Donna silently hoped his bluster wouldn't desert him.

 


	7. Too Marvelous For Words 7

 

Warnings/Disclaimers/Feedback: see pt 1

The West Wing was settling down for the night. Those few souls still marooned within the White House slowly relaxed and prepared for a distinctly uncomfortable time, sleeping on couches or floors with little or no blankets.

Abbey Bartlet shook her head as she heard the signs of movement behind the Press Secretary's and Deputy Chief of Staff's doors. Hadn't anyone warned C.J. or Josh about the ice storm? She'd thought that a few of her husband's people would be forced to camp out. In addition to C.J. and Josh, she heard voices coming from the bullpen and headed down that way.

She was surprised to see Sam and Donna, hunched over in an intense discussion. "Sam, I didn't expect to see you here."

"I got caught, ma'am." Ever polite and deferential, even at 11:30 at night with no power or phones. That was one of the reasons Abbey was very fond of Sam. "I was working and didn't notice the hail."

"Josh made me stay, Mrs. Bartlet," Donna answered, thinking to explain herself.

"How like him." Abbey smiled at the younger woman. "But the President and I anticipated this - especially after word came from the agents at the door that C.J. and Sam had stayed too late." She hefted her burden - a large load of blankets. "Here. Give these to C.J. and Josh as well. We don't have enough bedrooms for you all but we thought this might help make the night go a bit quicker."

"Thank you very much, ma'am." Donna smiled.

Sam added his thanks as well, but Abbey noticed that he had his sleeves up and was beginning to sweat. "Are you all right, Sam?" she asked, concerned.

Sam wiped his brow, only then realizing. "Oh, just fine, ma'am. A bit nervous, that's all."

What could Abbey do? She merely smiled and went off in search of Josh. Sam, meanwhile, turned to Donna. "I'm going to go do it now. I'll go talk to her and ask her to marry me. Right now."

"Go for it, Sam." Donna smiled, then turned back towards Josh's office as she heard her name being called.

What Josh yelled made her turn back and grab Sam. "Come on. Now."

"What?" Sam feebly protested.

"Josh needs you." Donna looked apologetic, then attempted to explain. "Josh thinks he might know who the leak was."

Sam sighed. "Fine." He did want to know who the leak was - just not now. Still, he allowed himself to be dragged away.

Josh was waiting with a flashlight and a look of untamed victory. "I may have something for you," he told Sam. "I was thinking about it, and really, there's only two alternatives."

Sam raised his eyebrows, C.J. now temporarily forgotten. "Two? I would have thought there were at least three."

"Well, that's what I thought, too." Josh ticked off the points one by one on his fingers. "First, Danny. I know you don't believe him," he said to Sam, "but I do. His logic makes perfect sense. Even if he wanted to hurt you, he'd do it personally, not professionally. The worst that would happen here would be a loss of prestige. Maybe a resignation if things got way out of hand. That wouldn't make you stop dating C.J."

"That's true," Sam had to admit. "Who are the other alternatives?"

"Well, then there's Amanda York, the reporter from the Guardian." Josh's expression creased in thought. "She can't exactly be pro-Bartlet, working at that right-wing rag."

Donna and Sam both nodded. "But," Donna added, "you don't have any proof, right?"

"Right." Josh sighed. "Then, the last alternative. Congresswoman Jarrard's aide was there, getting the response on the Ways & Means commission, remember?" Sam nodded. "She's the other alternative. We don't know anything about her, though."

"Well, there's a way that you could find out," Donna said.

"How?"

"The White House files," Donna said matter-of-factly. "Doesn't the Secret Service keep files on pretty much everyone who comes in contact with the President?"

Sam stared at Donna with open appreciation. "You know," he said to Josh, "why didn't we think of that?"

"Yeah," Josh echoed. "Why *didn't* we think of that?" But he found an objection. "But there's probably no one down there right now. I'll bet they all had the sense to leave before the storm hit."

"Oh, I'll bet there's someone there," Donna said.

"It's a decent gamble," Sam said. "What else are we going to do about it tonight?"

"Come on, then." Donna held up her big flashlight. "I'll lead the way."   
The three made their way carefully down to the basement of the White House. A hazardous journey by daylight, it was even worse by night. Josh in particular fell and tripped on the old stairs.

Sam had to laugh. "Oh, I'm the clumsy one?"

Josh, fighting not to curse, contented himself with a mere, "Shut up, Sam."

The three made it down to the file room without further incident. But they ran into a problem when they tried to open the files: each cabinet was locked.

"Damn." Sam turned to Josh and Donna. "What do we do now?"

Josh shrugged. "See if any of the counsels are still here."

"Good idea. Will you go start to knock on doors?" Sam asked Donna.

"Sure." She left, but it didn't take her long to have success. "Found one!" she called, returning with a sleepy Ainsley Hayes in tow.

"Hi, Ainsley," Sam said. "Can you unlock these?"

"That one, yes." Ainsley pointed to the file cabinet Josh was propping himself up against. "But only that one and a few others. Mr. Tribbey gave me the keys for a case we're working on. I don't have the keys to any other ones."

"Guess that'll have to do for tonight," Josh said. Ainsley unlocked the cabinets and turned to sit against the wall.

"Did you have work to do, or did you get stuck here?" Donna asked, thinking to make conversation.

"I had to finish the closing arguments in the Hansen case." Ainsley stifled a yawn. "When I went upstairs to the mess I saw the inferno outside."

Sam blinked. "Aren't infernoes usually fiery?"

"Yes, but this one is an inferno of cold."

"Is there such a thing?"

"Shut up, Sam." Ainsley had become much more self-assured since she had become friends with the speechwriter. Thus Sam tolerated her rebuke as a mark of independence.

Still, he had to get on with the business at hand. "Ainsley, would you help us with this?" Sam asked. "It'll go quicker with four people."

"Sure." Ainsley got to her feet and slowly went over to one of the drawers. "What am I looking for?"

"The files on two people." Sam noticed with satisfaction that the files he stared at were all belonging to reporters. "One of them's relatively new - Amanda York, the new girl from the Guardian - and Congresswoman Jarrard's aide - what's her name, Josh?"

"Melissa Barton," Josh answered. "Melissa Lynnette Barton."

"OK." Ainsley set to work as the others followed suit.

 


	8. Too Marvelous For Words 8

 

\----   
"Jo-osh..." Donna came perilously close to whining as she wiped her hands on her skirt to remove the dust. "I don't see the file."

"I don't either." Josh sighed. They had been looking through files for an hour and a half now, and had found York's, but not Barton's. "I'm beginning to think that maybe she doesn't have a file."

"She has a file." Ainsley yawned, now extremely tired. "Everyone has a file. I just don't know where it would possibly be."

"Well, that doesn't help," Josh said peevishly. He turned to Sam. "I move we go upstairs and get ready for a long uncomfortable night."

A bell clanged in Sam's head. "Yeah, Josh, let's go upstairs. I have some things I have to do."

"I have to finish, besides," Ainsley said. "I'll keep an eye out for this woman's file. It's so strange," she puzzled. "According to what Mr. Tribbey told me about the filing system, all congressional aides dating from the first year of the term are stored in this cabinet."

Josh was lost in thought too, until he recalled her precise words. "Ainsley, when Tribbey said the first year of 'the term,' did he mean the president's term, or the current congressional term?"

Ainsley paused, trying to evoke an answer. Finally she said, "I believe it was the current congressional term that he spoke about."

"And where have we been looking?" Sam smelled success.

"In the files from 1999 - the first year of the president's term."

"Damn." Josh was quick to kick himself. "Congresswoman Jarrard was a midterm appointee, wasn't she?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, chagrined. "Her husband finally passed away and they offered her his seat."

"Thus she would have brought some of her own people with her when she took office."

"Maybe Melissa Lynnette Barton." Sam sounded altogether too pleased with himself for a train of logic that should have happened quite a while ago.

Donna had to laugh. "I'm here with two members of Bartlet's senior staff \- two of the brightest men in the country - and you don't think to look after the midterms?" Both men shot her dirty looks. "Well, I'm right."

Ainsley sighed. "All right, let's find the other cabinet. It'd be labelled WH26435, I think. That's where most congressional aides are. That and 26436."

"Do you have keys to those?" Josh asked.

Ainsley checked the key ring, "Actually, I think I do," she said, surprised. The four of them began to pick their way in the dark over to each filing cabinet.

Eventually they located the correct ones. "I really hope this works," Donna said. "I'm beginning to feel at one with the bats that live down here."

Josh laughed, teasing her. "Come on, Donnatella, don't tell me you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Donna said stoutly, yet with a cast to her mien that gave her words the lie. "It's just difficult to navigate with darkness, plus all this on the floor."

"Will you two shut up?" Ainsley's patience was wearing thin. "Here." She yanked open the drawers, then ringingly declared, "I'm going back to my closing arguments. Good night, all." She left the room, but was careful to prop the door open behind her.

"OK, let me see here." Josh nimbly flipped through the files. It didn't take him long to reach his goal. "Here it is," he said, holding up the grimy folder.

"All right." Sam snatched up York's file and said, "Come on, let's get back above ground." Josh and Donna's flirting was making him anxious to set his own problems on the right track.

Once back up in the Wing, Josh set about ransacking his chaotic office. "What in hell are you looking for?" Sam asked.

"Another flashlight," Josh answered. "I left mine in the file room."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Here." She turned on her outsized light. "Can we read the files?"

"Sure." Josh took Melissa Barton's first, turning it open to the first sparse page. "Not much here," was his comment, "even for a twelve-month employee."

"There's a background sheet; that's really all." Sam still peered at it, interested. "Melissa Lynnette Barton, age twenty-eight, born in Richmond, Virginia..."

They all continued to peruse the sheet, but it was Donna who saw it first. "Hey. Look." She pointed. "Barton was a poster child for the National Rifle Association."

"Yeah." Josh looked further down the sheet. "Helped with fundraisers and everything."

"And look!" Sam pointed out. "Here's an article she wrote for Gun Magazine - 'Bartlet - Friend of the Pacifist.'"

"How in hell did this woman get clearance to the White House?" Donna wondered aloud.

"She hasn't done anything, Donna," Josh told her. "However, this is looking like a pretty good bet for our leak."

"I'd say so." Donna felt jubilant. "You want to get a hold of her and take her down?"

"Yeah," Josh answered. "Sic the Secret Service on her. No," he responded in all seriousness, "let's leave it alone for a bit." The evil Josh grin that was so familiar slowly spread across his features. "Give her enough rope, she'll hang herself if she's the one. Besides, Donnatella," he added, admonishing slightly, "we still don't have any proof, remember?"

Sam nodded his assent. "Yeah, besides, there's not much we could do tonight, with no phones or power."

"Yeah, well." Donna looked a bit shamefaced. Then she turned to Sam. "Don't you have things to finish up?"

The tone of her voice brooked no argument, and Sam found himself nodding. "Yes. You're right, Donna; thank you for reminding me." He took a deep breath and squared off in the other direction, but turned back, "Will you two be in here?"

"I think so; why?" Josh looked mystified.

Sam had to grin; he would have otherwise shouted. "Just curious." Closing the door behind him, Sam made his way to C.J.'s office. *Here it comes,* he thought. *Reckoning.*

 


	9. Too Marvelous For Words 9

 

C.J. was deep into her novel, sprawled out on her couch with her flashlight, when the knock at her door came. "Come in?" she called uncertainly. Who on earth would bother to knock at 1:30 am?

As soon as the door opened, she had her answer. "C.J., can I come in?" Sam asked. "We have to talk."

C.J.'s mind was slow to respond. "Yes," she finally said. "Come on in, Sam."

"Thanks." Slowly and like a stranger, she moved towards the door as he strode in. Closing it, she had a good look at the man. He moved as though he had wrestled with a demon for hours, and was only now getting it subdued. Still, Sam had a quiet mien of confidence about him. His eyes were not downcast, and instead of being pursed in a silent frown, his smooth lips exuded sensuality. She could tell even from those small clues that something big was about to happen.

It started off small, yet large at the same time. For instead of avoiding her gaze as he had been doing, Sam fumbled his way over to C.J.'s couch. "Come sit here."

"All right." Slowly, awkwardly, C.J. walked over and perched on the seat next to him, next to this man that she'd thought she known down to every facet of his quick mind and fascinating body. Now it felt like a stranger sat in her office.

He could tell. "C.J.," Sam began shakily, taking her hand and rhythmically rubbing it as a calming gesture, "there's something I need to tell you."

As he lost his nerve, the tension began to build. C.J. couldn't take it. For hours, ever since she had seen the desk, the reservoir of resentment and tension had begun to build in her. Finally she had to snap. "Sam, don't beat around the bush anymore," she said, compulsively wrenching her hand from his grasp. "I know."

The look on Sam's face was a composite - fear and anger flitted in tandem across his transparent face. "What... how could you know?" he said lamely.

C.J. took no notice as she felt the anger begin to develop. "As a friend," she said pointedly, "I can tell you that it really should have been kept a better secret, Sam." She gave a short bark of mirthless laughter. "I mean, look at your desk."

Sam's thoughts immediately leapt to that afternoon - the drawer - the cookies - the ring - "You saw it? I thought I had it hidden!"

C.J. was working herself into a fine oration now. She had gotten to her feet - she often did her best thinking pacing. "It's nothing to be *ashamed* of, Sam. Though God knows it will create press problems." She had to stave off a shudder as she envisioned the headlines. And what would the press do with her? How would they - especially Danny - react when the news came out? "I wish you could have told me," she finally burst out. "It'd have hurt me a lot less, God knows!" 

The emotions in Sam, however, were not to be described. "How could it hurt you?" he asked, befuddled. "I just couldn't tell you yet. And it was supposed to be a surprise!"

"A *surprise?*" C.J.'s voice resonated with dormant fury. "And what do you *mean,* how could it hurt me?" She turned away from him, quivering with rage. How, how on earth could she have been guilty of such a mis-judgment of character? What the hell did he mean, 'how could it hurt her?' He would have to be stupid and thoughtless indeed not to think of her at a time like this.

And yet, that nagging voice in her head yelled at her. Reason fought with Anger, giving her contradictory signals. <Trust him,> Reason said. <He's never hurt you before. Why are you so quick to jump to conclusions about him, anyway?>

<Why do you think?> Anger answered. <Because he gives you a reason to jump!>

<But this is Sam!> Reason persisted. <You've been in his arms - you've spent nights kissing those lips! He loves you. He would never hurt you.>

<Unless there were something to gain by it,> Anger added cynically. <Tread with caution.>

Still, Reason won out to the extent that she paused. "Sam," C.J. said in what she hoped was a more even voice, "it's really nothing to get worried over." 

"I know it's not." What the hell was she driving at? Sam wondered. First he'd been worried. Then he'd been scared. Now he was just confused.

C.J.'s next sentence, spoken pleasantly and halfway calmly, shattered any questions he might have. "I mean, Sam, some of my best friends in the world are gay."

"What?" The question echoed in the dark room like a shot. Sam found himself momentarily speechless, momentarily unable to move. All he could do was sit there in the dark and wonder why she had mistrusted him.

C.J.'s bewilderment was complete. "Sam .. I just don't understand why you lied to me." Her voice was quiet and soft, as she sat back down next to him. "I'm hurt and a little angry." Well, she was lying, but it would serve no good to lash out here and now. "I just want to talk with you."

Finally, though, Sam recovered the power of speech. Ending in an unpleasantly high-pitched noise, Sam put the rhetorical question. "You thought I was *gay*?"

What could C.J. say? "Well, Sam, I -"

"You do!" Sam leapt to his feet. "You think I'm gay!" Worriedly he began to run his hands through his mop of dark hair. "Is it the hair? Or the eyes?"

"Sam -"

"Or maybe it's my square jaw? Or - "

"Sam!" C.J. stopped him with one syllable. She said wryly, "First off, it's the fact that you're *worrying* about your hair. And secondly," she parried, her own voice rising, "What the hell else could I think? What about your desk?"

"What *about* my desk!"

"All the copies of The Advocate?"

"That was for Josh!" Sam found himself being cold, and that troubled him. But why in hell hadn't she just asked him what was wrong if she'd been so worried. "He's working on the gay rights bill," he said frigidly. "I was helping him."

C.J. faltered, damning that little voice of Anger that was now making tracks for the remote corner of her consciousness. Why in hell had she listened to it? Her relationship was falling apart right in front of her now. "Well, you didn't want to be with me earlier," she said quietly, hoping she wouldn't sound like she was being explanatory.

Oh, God, this was bad. Even in the darkness she could make out his shining eyes, radiating with offended dignity. Sam always looked the most attractive when he was annoyed. Because then, and only then, would his jaw jut slightly forward in that little half-pout; his full mouth would purse in an expression of either disappointment or anger, and his eyes, those vivid spheres, would fill with such emotion that it hurt her to pursue her argument.

Only after a moment did he speak. "I had a reason for that. But you thought it was this?"

C.J. had expected him to snap at her. She had braced herself for one of his infrequent explosions. But she hadn't expected that quiet jail term from his lips. So when it did come it had the force of a blast. It brought tears to her eyes. "Sam," she said, fighting desperately to keep her composure, at least for a few minutes, "you scared me. I couldn't see what other announcement would be so damn big and secret that you could only talk with Donna, or that I had to be out of the room for it. You scared me, and I didn't know what else to do."

Sam turned away from her. What was he going to do now? He had been serious when he spoke with Donna. It was to be now or never with C.J. But could it be now in light of what he had just heard?

As he stared out at the storm, listening to C.J. fight her frightened and angry tears, the answer came to him: Yes. This was not a reason to reconsider. If anything, it was an incentive to work harder. Sam finally saw where all of Donna's arguments had been leading. Marriage wasn't perfect. It needed to be a final bargain. But just because you bought the product didn't mean there would be no need for tech support. They could do the same thing they did now - work at it. There was no premium for doing things right the first time. But all Sam knew, as he fingered the ring box still in his pocket, was that he wanted to be there with C.J. as he made his mistakes.

And yet, some tiny part of his makeup still doubted his voice and his commitment. It was still really too wonderful; too marvelous for words. He could fathom it. But only just. It was still a dream. But dreams could come true, after all.

He turned back to her with a gentle tone. "C.J., I can tell you now what my big announcement is." Joking a bit, he added, "It will prove that I'm not gay."

C.J. wiped her eyes. "Do I want to know?" Her voice wobbled just a bit as she asked. "Do I have a right to know?"

"Yes." Sam was firm. "Come sit down here, and I'll tell you everything, I promise." She obeyed, and Sam followed her to the couch. But instead of sitting, he crouched in front of her. Soon, however, this position was uncomfortable. "Ow," he mumbled, shifting position until one of his knees was on the ground to give him more support. "Okay, let me tell you what my big announcement was."

"All right." C.J. still looked utterly mystified as Sam began to fumble in his pocket. She heard the clang of change and other things against a slightly larger, hollow object. What was he looking for?

Finally, Sam was able to extract it from his pocket and bring the box up against the small of his back, hidden from her view. His heart in his throat, he plunged ahead blindly. He knew, after all, that he'd never get another chance. And the thing that convinced him of his decision was C.J.'s face, penitent and patiently waiting, as she regarded him, waiting for his surprise. She'd never looked more beautiful.

Sam, firmly on one knee, opened the box and turned it over to her, avoiding her eyes as he heard her soft gasp. "C.J.," he began, "the big announcement I had was that I'm in love with you. I'm crazy about you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." There was only a brief pause before he spoke the words he'd earlier thought were too marvelous to say: "Claudia Jean, will you marry me?"

C.J. was shocked beyond words and beyond all power of guilt. Sam had meant to erase it, and he had done so. She was touched. He had put himself aside for her feelings. The formula of his proposal had told her that he didn't hold her accountable. That he would still go out on this limb after what she had done to him; what she had accused him of... that spoke of great devotion. He still loved her. He would always love her, of that she was sure. God knew, C.J. told herself, that she loved Sam, loved him madly, single-mindedly and completely, perhaps stupidly - but she'd never stop loving him

There would be problems, she knew. Danny, and Leo, and questions of conflicts of interest, and hurt feelings, and interference, and secret service protection. But C.J. knew, as she stared into his smiling eyes, that every single inconvenience would be worth it if she could stay with this man forever.

Belatedly, it occurred to her to laugh through her tears. Very ceremoniously, she faced Sam. Slipping the elegant band on her finger, she spoke one word. "Yes."

And Sam, feeling an unparalleled thrill of joy and relief, flung her to him and kissed her with all the tension he'd been feeling. C.J. returned it, her hands stroking his hair with all the gentleness she never got a chance to express. But, she told herself happily, that would all be different now.


End file.
